


Paul's Birthday: 69th Edition

by 1JettaPug



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 2020s, Best Friends, Birthday, Birthday Cake, Cake, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Pandemics, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: It's 2021, and there's still a raging pandemic, and the entire United States is in political Hell. That's still not going to stop KISS from safely getting together and celebrating Paul’s special 69.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Paul's Birthday: 69th Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me really wanted to do a smut fic for this, ngl. Or a slash fic. Then I realized, ya know, we may just need a good, solid friendship fic just this once, give it a nice change of pace. Lol.

Doc attempted to have a zoom conversation daily with the guys after their KISS 2020 GOODBYE, because rockstars, busy schedule, this is what is going to happen when we get back on tour, yadda yadda. He started off with going over merchandise sales while everyone played with their phones, pets or actually tuned in like Tommy. It was only when Doc left them alone for a ten minute recess that Eric leaned in uncomfortably close to his screen and whispered, “Hey, ain't a certain boy's birthday coming up?” 

Paul shrugged. “I don’t expect much for this birthday.” 

Gene grunted, playing an outdated gaming app on his iPad. He didn’t respond. 

“Well, this is kinda depressing,” Tommy murmured. 

Predictably, that’s when Eric's cat, Ash, slams down on the keyboard and makes them all laugh. 

X

Two quarantined weeks later, the three of them were relaxing in Paul's close guesthouse. The idea came from Gene, surprisingly. All of them knew how at risk he was, but after coming to them, insisting on giving Paul a good birthday for a better year, they agreed. 

“I need help baking,” Gene stared at the oven door like he half expected a Stephen King creature to burst free from within. “I mean... I don’t know how to bake by myself.” 

Eric gave him a flat look, “You really think I know how to bake?” 

"I can make Tommyritas," the guitarist offered, then backtracked at Gene's scowl. "Or, fine, we can make a cake." 

“It’s gonna be a cake for Paul,” Gene said, picking up the licensed KISS oven mitts. Only his face was printed on them, but Paul got a free pair anyway. No wonder they ended up in the guesthouse. 

Eric giggled, “Oh, for Paul?” 

“Why not? We can dump a shit-load of frosting on it for him,” Gene told them. 

“Alright, alright. I'm in... mainly because you're already turning on the gas and not lighting it yet, Gene.” Tommy pointed out. 

X

The 'angry orange' was gone, finally flying away to the land of the Florida Man and hopefully never be heard from again. A fitting ending, Paul thought as he shut the news off. There had been enough of that today already, and it wasn't even noon yet. Still, it was a great birthday present, he thought. 

He may as well jog down to the guesthouse to see Gene's reaction to it. He watched as much, if not more, news as he did, and it was easier than texting or tweeting. 

With a skip in his step, Paul opened the double doors to discover Eric sitting in his robe on the floor, playing with a leftover can of frosting. "...Eric?" 

A blink, then a sheepish grin. "Uh, hey. I, uh, have no... explanation." 

Paul wouldn't want one, regardless. 

"What’s that smell? Y'all using the oven?" 

Eric's ears twitched. So strange to hear Paul's attempt at southern slang off-stage. "Yeah, yean. Gene's baking, and Tommy is mothering." 

“Gene doesn’t know how to bake,” Paul said after a moment. 

“Believe me, he doesn't," Eric assured him as he stood up and finally shut his robe. “He watched some tutorials on YouTube.” 

X

Gene quickly found out that without his mother's years of experience to guide his hand in the art of cooking everything about it was exceedingly messy. “Could have gone with one of those box recipes,” Tommy said when Gene dragged a floury hand through his boxy hair. "Or a bakery. There has to be a few still open in California." 

“No. That's for quitters,” Gene spat. He was wearing all black clothes and a light dusting of flour that traveled from his blocky shoes to the tip of his nose. He hadn't noticed how much he had gotten on his own backside just by his own hands yet. 

"Besides, I think it'll turn out great." 

"Yeah, because I'm doing all the frosting work." 

It was three layers of homemade chocolate cake with a rich chocolate buttercream frosting. It was covered with a chocolate ganache drip, and it was also uneven and unlovely. Gene couldn’t fit enough single candles on top, so he went with a simple ring around the edges and chunky number candles in the middle: 69. 

“You guys,” Paul gasped. He looked a little damp around those soft brown eyes. “I can’t believe you- did you guys make this for me?” 

It was an obviously homemade cake and the sink was piled high with batter-encrusted plates and bowls, but it was so heartwarming. “We did," Eric confirmed. "And I got to lick the spoon." 

"And the leftover frosting straight from the can." Tommy said, laughing a little. 

“It was my idea,” Gene smiled, coming over to rest a powdery palm against Paul’s shoulder. 

"Oh, you guys." 

X

They all sang 'Happy Birthday' in unison and vaguely on-key. They weren’t on stage, they didn't have to try to hit the notes. And then Eric scrambled to the windows to yank down the curtains and darken the room. 

"Better make a wish, Paul." 

"Yeah, ask for more frosting." Eric suggested, clearly on a sugar high as he erratically tapped his hands against his thighs. 

“I dunno what I can ask for besides wishing the virus gone. You guys have already made this birthday so awesome by being here and doing all this for me.” Paul smiled, drawing them into a huddle around the kitchen table. “Thank you.” 

“Thanks for being our friend and putting up with us.” Tommy said. 

“Come on,” Paul poked him in the cheek. “You’re all my family, too.” 

Gene nodded, “Which means you’ll have to eat this cake even if it’s terrible.” 

X

“The cake is only a little terrible, Gene.” Paul said about three slices later. "We'll do cooking classes when the pandemic is over, don't worry."


End file.
